Mr. Wood is in the North Pole, I am in the South

Han Zhen was trapped in her own thoughts, and didn't realize that Song Xiaoran was sleeping very restlessly in time.

Song Xiaoran had a wonderful childhood. Before he was nine years old, he was the luckiest and happiest little prince in the world.

The Song and He families treated him like a jewel, and his mother, He Qiao, regarded him as the only happiness and hope in life.

When He Qiao and Song Shiming divorced when he was nine years old, Song Xiaoran followed He Qiao back to the He family. At that time, Mr. He wanted to change his surname. The Mr. Song brought Song Shiming to the He family and knelt outside the gate for two days and two nights. A cane of huanghuali wood broke three of Song Shiming's ribs, and Song Xiaoran was able to keep his surname Song.

That failed marriage hit He Qiao hard. Song Shiming had a son with another woman long before marrying her, and even brought the boy to Song's house, tricking He Qiao into adopting the child.

People who are used to things going smoothly are more likely to be depressed when encountering setbacks. He Qiao suffers from severe depression. Song Xiaoran watched his mother become haggard and hated Song Shiming in his heart. contacts.

In the year when the He family was born, he had just gone to Kyoto to go to university, and the news was full of news that his grandfather and uncle committed suicide in fear of crime. When he rushed back to Nanjiang, he saw three coffins lying across the hall of the He family. He Qiao couldn't bear it. Shocked by the death of his father and brother, he committed suicide by jumping off the building.

At that time, my aunt and aunt fled abroad with their two cousins. He was a 13-year-old child kneeling alone in the mourning hall. The high-ceilinged living room seemed to have completely collapsed, submerging him under the ruins of a place.

That memory was completely hollowed out in Song Xiaoran's brain afterwards, he only remembered that he went back to school again, and he didn't know how many days passed in a daze, until Fu Yuxing appeared and pulled him out of hell.

It never occurred to him that the decline of the entire He family was not an accident at all. The He family was clearly sacrificed and became a stepping stone on the road to heaven for others.

……

In the living room of the manor in country M, Mu Nancheng sat on the sofa and tapped on the coffee table with his fingers. His calm tone revealed the coercion of giving orders and the certainty that he must win:

"Sit down and listen carefully."

Mu Nancheng took out a recording pen from nowhere and put it on the coffee table, and pressed the button. When an old and familiar voice came out of the recording pen, Song Xiaoran's eyes widened in shock. It was his grandfather He Zhenting's voice. sound!

In the turbid and heavy breathing, the old man's breath was like a gossamer, but the words in his voice were very clear:

"You...it's you...you're black..."

At this moment, a gunshot sounded from far away in the recording, Song Xiaoran was shocked, and he rushed over, only to realize that the recording had come to an end.

A few seconds of recording, just six bytes, the breath of dying, and a gunshot that didn't know the direction, Song Xiaoran sat there, feeling his head was buzzing, he asked Mu Nancheng blankly:

"What does this mean? What does it mean?"

Mu Nancheng turned the recording pen forward for a while, and then Song Xiaoran heard Grandpa's clear voice:

"20***month*day..."

"This is the recording from the day your grandfather passed away." Mu Nancheng turned off the recording pen, clasped his hands on the coffee table, looked into Song Xiaoran's eyes, completely forbidding him to refuse, and poured this information into his mind, " You are his grandson, you should know that Mr. He has the habit of carrying a recording pen with him, which means that when he had a heart attack, there was someone by his side."

"Your uncle and grandfather died on the same day. What did the investigators tell you? Your grandfather suffered a heart attack in the study when the special case team came to Nanjiang for investigation, so your uncle swallowed the gun in the bedroom. suicide……"

Mu Nancheng shook his head, he looked at Song Xiaoran almost with pity, "But the gunshot was clearly before your grandfather died, and they both died at the same time, this case is full of doubts, Song Xiaoran, have you I have never pursued it, did the three members of the He family die in vain?"

……

The truth revealed by Mu Nancheng became the curse of the devil, which kept echoing in Song Xiaoran's ears and dreams.

"Mom, grandpa, uncle..."

Song Xiaoran burst into tears. He curled up and hugged himself tightly, panting like a little beast driven to a desperate situation. The IV hose on the back of his hand was returning blood. Han Zhen tried to calm him down. However, Song Xiaoran trembled so badly that Han Zhen didn't even dare to touch him.

Han Zhen hurriedly called for the doctor. Of course Mu Nancheng was startled, pulled out his needle and rushed over. The nurse added a sedative to Song Xiaoran's drip. He vomited non-stop, there was nothing in his stomach, and the acidic water vomited all over Mu Nancheng.

Mu Nancheng hugged him, wrapped him in his arms, asked Han Zhen to twist a hot towel over, wipe it carefully, fingered his sweaty forehead hair, pressed his lips to his ear, and coaxed him non-stop.

"Fourth brother, fourth brother..."

Song Xiaoran just cried, the tears kept rolling down, soaking the whole face, he kept calling his relatives, calling Fu Yuxing, he suddenly struggled, waving his hands indiscriminately, as if he wanted to beat someone hard, and waved his palm Passing Mu Nancheng's face, there was a loud "snap", and Han Zhen stood aside in shock:

"Sir, let me come..."

As if Mu Nancheng hadn't heard of it, he hugged Song Xiaoran even tighter, and pressed his cheeks tightly against him. Song Xiaoran's appearance hurt his eyes, and the sound of the fourth brother was like a rusty knife on his chest. The heart was grinding bluntly, and it seemed like hot venom was flowing slowly.

Song Xiaoran was covered in sweat, and Mu Nancheng changed his clothes. The young man's body was thin, as if it could be broken with a light fold. The pale skin covered the fragile bones. The veins and blood vessels on the body were distinct, blue and red. The blood vessels intertwined, causing Mu Nancheng's eyelids to hurt.

Mu Nancheng wiped his sweat, he felt cool, hugged Mu Nancheng's neck in a daze, burrowed into his neck, and started calling "fourth brother" again.

Mu Nancheng suddenly dropped the towel on the ground.

Han Zhen stood there, not daring to breathe hard.

After a while, Mu Nancheng said in a deep voice:

"Get another clean one."

When Song Xiaoran calmed down, it was late at night, Mu Nancheng returned to the ward with a dirty body and exhausted, and asked Han Zhen to continue guarding Song Xiaoran.

The ward was pitch black, except for a dark red spot of light flickering on the head of the bed, accompanied by a cloud of white smoke covering an obscure face.

Mu Nancheng was sitting on the edge of the bed, with one leg bent over the bed and one foot on the ground. It was as if a string in his brain was being torn by two forces, and he pressed the center of his brow with a finger holding a cigarette.

After donating the bone marrow, his immunity was weakened, and he couldn't let go of his official and personal affairs in the past few days. He dealt with the Fu family for several hours during the day, and brought back exactly what Fu Yuxing had left for Song Xiaoran.

In fact, he wished that those things would be burned together with Fu Yuxing, but no, Song Xiaoran was just thinking about it now.

When the news of Fu Yuxing's terminal illness spread, Mu Nancheng was indifferent, and in his indifference, there was a more obscure, delusional, nasty, and vicious mind.

At that time, no one knew that Mu Nancheng and Fu Yuxing had the same blood type.

Mu Nancheng watched with cold eyes, and even said that he waited with cold eyes. People with such a rare blood type suffered from such a disease, and they would die from death.

A year passed, but Fu Yuxing suddenly asked him to meet him.

It was an early summer afternoon, the weather was muggy, and the air conditioner was not turned on in Fu Yuxing's ward. Mu Nancheng sat on the chair beside Fu Yuxing's bed, his shirt was soaked in hot sweat, but Fu Yuxing was still covered with a blanket. His pale cheeks looked even more miserable under the incandescent light.

Mu Nancheng looked at Fu Yuxing, the regret in his eyes was well grasped, and every bit of hypocrisy was genuine:

"You will recover, you are still young."

At that time, Fu Yuxing was too skinny, and his appearance was really not good, but he was warm when he smiled. His words nailed Mu Nancheng there like a nail:

"Uncle Qi, I invited you here today, but I have to ask Gu."

If others listen to this, they will be confused, and Fu Yuxing has no children, so what kind of orphan is he entrusted to?Even if he wants to entrust his orphans, his parents are still alive, and he has three older sisters, why should he entrust his orphans to a distant cousin like Mu Nancheng?

But Mu Nancheng has long been used to tearing apart other people's words, even if the hidden meaning is hidden deep, he can still hear the words. His eyes are getting colder and darker, and he looks at Fu Yuxing fixedly.

Fu Yuxing and Mu Nancheng had a direct showdown:

"It's not that you didn't hide it well, and it's not that I have sharp eyes. It's just that that person is Ranran. I will be more sensitive to everything about him and people about him. Uncle Qi, I said this not to show off to you, but also I don't want to offend you, I have no other way, I hope that after my death, someone can save me."

Mu Nancheng listened quietly, listening to Fu Yuxing telling about the past he and Song Xiaoran knew, hearing what kind of temperament Fu Yuxing saw in Song Xiaoran, and listening to Fu Yuxing talking about Song Xiaoran's little habits. What kind of expression, until he heard that Fu Yuxing discovered that Song Xiaoran was saving sleeping pills, and heard that Fu Yuxing asked him to stop Song Xiaoran from protecting Song Xiaoran, Mu Nancheng's bad mood was drawn up.

He felt that he should directly strangle Song Xiaoran to death. After all, that foolish boy would follow other men to die for love. If he is so stupid, why would he stay in this world.

What sleeping pills to take, give him a bottle of dichlorvos.

At a young age, in the prime of his life, there are many people who love him in this world, and they will die for a dying man.

Stupid and useless, stupid thing...

Mu Nancheng took out the cigarette case, tapped it, and suddenly remembered that this was Fu Yuxing's ward. He held the cigarette between his index finger and middle finger, and his open palm felt cold.

After leaving the hospital that day, he asked Han Zhen to release the news that he and Fu Yuxing both had Rh negative blood.

If Fu Yuxing survived, he would be obsessed with ghosts, if Fu Yuxing died, he wanted Song Xiaoran to live.